


Fated Occurence

by DulcetDalliance



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Internal Conflict, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DulcetDalliance/pseuds/DulcetDalliance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin gives herself to Grima with the condition that Grima not harm Ylisse, seeing it as the safest way to end the battle of centuries. However, before Grima can fully take form within her, Inigo delivers a fatal blow, interrupting the takeover, and spiting the Fell Dragon indefinitely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Ending

**Author's Note:**

> My first shot at a fic after a looong time, but I love Inigo too much agh...  
> Please leave some feedback!

    Moments ago she embodied the fire of battle, a solid structure to which all soldiers could fall back to. Now, this seething, groveling figure before him, clawing at the blade protruding from her side, wailing guttural curses embodied a dying animal, savage in confusion.

    "Slaves of Naga! Damned scraps of _filth_ ," she spat, hot tears streaming over her cheeks into the bloody pool beneath her. "You rob me of my right to calamity, so I will rob you of your precious 'bonds'...petty things, limited and diminishable things!"

    Inigo's grip on his weapon tightened, he was tempted to slash this monster to bits, even if it meant forever shaming the death of his loved one, in body and mind. Just as his confusion boiled to anger, and anger to action, Chrom grabbed his wrist with a firm squeeze. This was hurting him as much as any other, he realized that now as he saw an unspeakable battle reflected in his father's eyes. Fallen troops all around, hope had fled the moment Grima reared its head towards their tactician, Robin. Yet the Ylisseans fought on, keeping the focus on killing another enemy, pushing away the awful assumptions they could make from the scene Inigo and Chrom currently stood by.

    Robin wailed, snapping Inigo's attention back to the huddled woman. Her eyes had turned dark, crimson eyes emblazoned on her cheeks, the symbol of Grima. She looked almost like the old Robin, whining for attention, but this was different. Inigo's jaw set, as he watched Grima's influence washed over her in turbulent waves.

    "Inigo..." his breath hitched as her voice called to him pleadingly, "come to me...end me, do it. Come now, wield Falchion, slash my throat, feel my pain as your wife's blood stains your hands forever. Take from me my breath and take pain from yourself. Any other way I will live on as the Fell Dragon, complete in a powerful vessel."

    "Inigo," Chrom warned, "that isn't true, Grima is dying, leave her be, it was her decision-"

    At this, a sudden rage burst from within the man and he snatched Falchion from his father's hand savagely, pushing him to the side and into the battle. "Shut up! This isn't her fault! This is-" he choked.

    Grima cooed and gingerly grabbed his hand, and guided it so that Falchion rested on her neck. Her dark eyes almost seemed sincere, like it was a normal task to be done, that it was her duty. Looking down at the woman he once loved, Inigo felt his heart start to fracture. He was the one pointing the sword, and he was the one who could do this.

    "Show this fool what she has done, show her that this is fate. Death by royalty, why, we have lived this many times over. Put us to sleep, child of Naga, and mete out all punishment!" Grima urged, gripping the body of the sword so Inigo could not falter. He caught sight of the silver wedding band still on her left ring finger, soiled with her own dripping blood, and he furrowed his brow. His muscles tensed in their familiar structure to kill, and he inhaled sharply.

    "Brother!" Lucina rammed into him, sending both Falchion and himself flying. She pinned him down and stared down at him with angry, sorrowful eyes. When she saw that his resolve was clear and stubborn, she shut her eyes and cursed silently before raising the butt of her sword and slammed it against the side of his head. His look of shock was only temporary before he slipped into unconsciousness, leaving Lucina to sigh in distasteful relief.

    Grima snarled, taking measures into her own hands, she scavenged for the fallen sword crafted to destroy her, and when her cold hands felt the cool metal, she did not hesitate in plunging it deep inside her. As one last act of defiance, she slumped slowly onto the ground with a sinister smile, all the while keeping eye contact with the horrified Lucina.

    _**"Robin!!"**_  the scream echoed through the battlefield its owner unknown, and every soldier felt their hearts sink a little, earning some a nasty scar from an elated enemy.

    The grim battle lasted until dawn and every soldier grudgingly trudged away with a new wound, the members of the royal family carrying several worse than others.The convoy cart was emptied to carry the body of their fallen tactician in seclusion, her death would soon be covered up with white lies at the capital, no one opposed it, for no one wanted the truth.

    Once Inigo came to, he took it upon himself to walk ahead of the group returning home, claiming it was to make sure no other troubles befell the army. Everyone caught on to what his real intentions were, and as a sort of act of kindness, made sure the convoy cart stayed at the very end of the march, farthest from wherever he may be.

    As Inigo trudged ahead, with nothing but rock and dirt before him, he let angry tears slip quietly by, not bothering to wipe his eyes as his hands were shaking violently with pent up emotions. Once he thought he spotted a flash of silver white hair pass by him only to realize that snow had started to fall and one pesky snowflake had gotten caught in his eyelashes. He turned around, realizing how far away from the army he had gone, before turning back to the darkening horizon. "A snowstorm huh?" he chucked a little, "wouldn't want to get lost now would we?" With that, the prince headed back towards the rest of his comrades, silently falling in line with his father, who only gave him a brief look of sympathy before turning away, jaw clenched.

    The sudden snow seemed to be a blessed distraction to the war party as they took time prepping for their armor and animals for the cold, giving their minds a rest from the heavy subjects flitting through every warrior's thoughts. It was a much needed refocus, it kept them busy. There were weapons to clean before blood sullied the blades, pegasi, wyverns, and horses to fit with warmer mounts, scarves to distribute and wrap around comrades' necks, changes of armor and footwear to be made...

And no one seemed to notice the absence of the convoy cart and horse.


	2. Lovely Lass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like writing more of the relationship between Inigo and Robin before Grima happened, I hope this doesn't seem too out of place!  
> Also this chapter takes place with an established relationship between them, though it might be a bit new and shy ;)

    "Hey now, what's with that frown?" he hummed.

    Robin raised her head to peek over the precarious stack of books that nearly enclosed her in a circle of strategical information to see who it was, at, how late was it again? She rubbed her temples and let out a deep sigh as a dizzy spell suddenly hit her, causing the tactician to collapse back to her paperwork, not exactly what she wanted to do at the moment.

    "Woah there! I know my presence is magnanimous but please don't swoon over that intimidating stack of books," with one heave, a thump later and the sudden disappearance of her favorite tactical guides, Robin's eyes met the deep blue ones of Inigo, glittering in the scarce light the oil lamp gave. "You wouldn't want them to crush my perfected exterior would you?" 

    Despite being worn to tatters, Robin found herself breaking into a grateful smile, which in turn, seemed to cause Inigo's eyes to glimmer brighter. 

    "Much better, my fair maide-" Inigo's eyes closed shut on instinct, and a furious blush covered the expanse of his face as Robin grabbed his collar and pecked the side of his cheek. He blinked furiously when the tactician pulled away, both flustered. 

    "S-serves you right sneaking in and spying on me." Robin remarked quickly, turning around and pretending to shuffle through a selection of leather-bound covers to hide her blazing cheeks. "What do you want, Inigo?" she felt a bit of impatience slip into her tone as her trained mind quickly switched from relationships to tactics and she bit her lip, she was not herself tonight.

    Inigo phased out of his confusion and immediately went to Robin's side, holding her shoulder gingerly. "That last battle was not your fault," he said firmly. "Anyone could have..." he trailed off, noticing how silent Robin was, she would usually retort quickly and a battle of arguments would ensue, which would lead to a battle of wits, usually ending with both of them getting into too many innuendo jokes and as a result, silence with both of them uncomfortable and bright red. "Hey Robin..? Was I right about that frown?" Inigo asked, his usual smile slipping a bit.

     _That battle,_ Robin grimaced, suddenly remembering why she had been pulling all-nighters all week,  _I was such a fool. Inigo was gravely injured, even Chrom barely pulled through, gods, I almost killed the Exalt! If I had been one move faster, a bit more detailed then maybe..._

"Hey," Inigo grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him. He leaned in slowly, placing a sweet kiss on top of her brow, causing it to release the tension it had been holding unknowingly. "It has been a whole week, it's over..." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, his own expression turning to one of worry and distress. "Please...just rest tonight, I'm-" he paused, taking a shaky breath, "I need you, you don't know how hard it is trying to keep my smiles up when you're burying yourself in regret every damn hour of the day" he whispered, his body weighing more heavily on her shoulders, "that kiss you just gave me, is the only thing I've had of you all month."

   Robin was stunned, her hand lightly brushed the top of his head, soothingly. Inigo rarely ever showed vulnerability, yet here he was, and Robin realized then how badly her absence treated her loved one. "Oh Inigo..." she strained, realizing just how many nights he had to sleep alone wracked with unspoken worries. Sometimes it was hard to remember that she had people to care for her now. She was all too well accustomed to being the asset, but not the need. Her romance with Inigo had happened so fast, and before she could even transition from a life of formalities and privacy, Inigo gave her a ring and confessed, filling her with the most joy she could remember. She was a part of a team now, even if they weren't exactly married yet. Robin glanced at her fiance with guilt before returning the hug fervently. "I'm sorry, you're right. You're completely right. I just keep seeing you and Chrom cornered again, and I'm never fast enough to catch up and...oh Inigo you earned yourself a scar, I'm so so sorry..." her fingertips grazed the outline of his healing wound by his left shoulder blade, causing him to tremble a bit at the touch. Before she could apologize again, Inigo pulled away from her embrace and looked earnestly into her wide eyes.

    "There you go again, Robin," he touched her cheek lightly, causing her to nearly be pulled into his hand. She hadn't realized she had also missed his touch, which would explain why she had kissed him so impulsively once she saw him. "It wasn't your fault, I just miscalculated. Besides," his expression suddenly turned dead serious and Robin tilted her head in confusion and slight fear. "I'll look pretty hot with a scar right? I mean I'll catch one lovely lass unawares and once she sees-" Robin interrupted Inigo by promptly tackling him to the ground, gracefully of course. They landed with a thud, barely avoiding the stack of previously dropped out of view books. Robin had a wicked grin plastered onto her face and Inigo recoiled in fear only to hit his head on the floor. "Ow! Robin that's dirty!" he protested, trying to wiggle out of her grip. She responded by sitting up triumphantly, hands on her hips. "I like you better when you're not trying to destroy my manliness."

    "Hah! I like you better when you keep your promises! Some damned lucky 'lovely lass', my ass! You said you- mmph!!" Inigo pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her indefinitely. 

    Inigo had a satisfied smirk on his face. "I never said 'lucky lovely lass', only 'lovely' and 'lass'. So you think whoever sees my splendid scar is lucky? Very suggestive if you ask me. Maybe I'll just-ahh!" Robin bit his finger, making him flinch, and leaned in close, grabbing his collar and deeming him immobile before he could treat his wounded index finger.

    "You listen here! I..." she trailed off, suddenly feeling immensely dizzy from the week-long stress and the sudden movement. Robin saw stars pulse around Inigo and felt her head pound before she loosed her grip and slumped over him. 

    "Robin..? Robin!" Inigo hurriedly sat up and lifted her up, supporting her against a wooden beam. "Honestly, what am I going to do with you?" he sighed, fanning her face. Her eyes fluttered and she gave a half-smile, half-groan before signalling that she was fine. 

    "Just a little dizzy, I'mmmokay..." she mumbled, struggling to feel her feet.

    An idea crossed Inigo's head and his face lit up, full of excitement. "Hey Robin, I'm a prince right? Since my father is the Exalt right?"

    "Hmm?" Robin's head hurt more now, what in the world was he saying now? "Yeah, sure, I guess?" She kept her eyes open long enough to see Inigo's face turn coy.

    "Then, tell me," he leaned in closer, one hand on her thigh, "how would you like to be carried back to you tent princess-style by an authentic prince?"

    Robin was almost positive she misheard him. An authentic prince? Inigo? "Don't you dare..." She felt his hand travel under her knees and his grip on her shoulder tighten. This was happening. With one swoop, she was in the air, and it did not help her newfound nausea. Robin could just imagine how stupidly adorable his face looked at that moment... _wait no, that's not right. I'm not supposed to enjoy public humiliation._

Not a single thought for her books and papers crossed Robin's mind as she felt the chilling night air brush her cheek upon exiting the barracks. Inigo, admittedly, did a good job of keeping her warm however, and she couldn't help but note how his heart rate slowly rose as he carried her leisurely through camp.

    "By the way, Robin," she looked up at him questioningly, and he shot her a killer smile. "That lucky lovely lass I was talking about is you."

   

    Chrom stepped out of his tent and almost doubled over in shock. His very own son, doing something so embarrassing in front of everyone, even if it was late, there were people! He wanted to call out to him, tell him to cut it out in a fatherly way, but his thoughts were cut off by the delighted squeal from behind him. Olivia had stuck her head out of the tent, and watched Inigo with the proudest eyes he had ever seen. She raced over to Chrom's side and looked up at him, beaming.

    "Isn't it wonderful? Our Inigo, with a girl he loves! Perhaps encouraging him to talk to girls wasn't such a bad idea after all! Such an effective technique too...it makes me blush to think about!" Olivia gushed, perhaps a bit too loud, as Inigo faltered for a bit before quickening his pace, a red streak creeping up his cheeks.

    Chrom frowned a bit, "but it's so...cliche," he grimaced slightly as his son fled out of sight.

    Olivia nudged his shoulder, causing him to look at her again. "Don't act innocent, he is  _your_ son after all."

    "What does  **that** mean?"

    "Just saying, you would do the same. That one time I sprained my ankle dancing I saw you kneel and extend your arms a little, I nearly lost myself." Chrom had a blush of his own forming and he turned away, off-put. "But, you are the one who made me fall for you and that kind of thing, you had me dreaming of my own prince, how could I resist raising my son as one too?" At this, Chrom faced Olivia and smiled, albeit bashfully. The entire royal family seemed to be the easily red types, with an exception of Lucina. 

    "Come on, let's go inside, I was going to talk to Robin about tomorrow but it seems she is occupied at the moment anyway," he sighed in defeat and cast another glance in the direction of Inigo and Robin's neighboring tents. "But if my son dares lay a finger on our precious tactician whilst she is out of sorts and unmarried, I'll deal with him personally."

    Olivia laughed in a good-natured way and grabbed her husband's arm, pulling him back into the tent. "You know, fathers usually say that about the one being courted," she paused, "and in the context of...daughters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sort of just turned into a rollercoaster of emotions and fluff hahaha  
> Thanks again for reading! Please leave a comment with your thoughts, do you guys like fluff or should I keep this story mostly serious?


	3. Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update? Yes! Mostly bc I felt bad about leaving the story to hang after the first chapter haha :]

    "Damn!" Inigo seethed as his fist met the table.

    It had been two weeks since the celebrated heroes came home to Ylisse with fanfare and trumpet, and two weeks since the disappearance of the convoy along with their tactician's body. Chrom had taken it into his own hands when the Ylisseans eagerly demanded to see his son's bride-to-be and crown tactician upon arrival, quickly pacifying them with word that she was injured and required quiet and rest with her fiance. This gave Inigo plenty of time to think of a way to retrieve her body, and somehow break the news to the kingdom that Robin had died from her "injury". But the wells of thought ran empty and the people grew more and more restless every day.

    Some fancied that the Exalt and his family just wanted to stay confined in their ivory tower while the after-effects of war tore through the land like a vulture seeking dying prey. They would dine and celebrate and push away responsibility for the sake of themselves. A palace maid even claimed that she had spied the crown prince with his arms around two ladies of the court, seducing them and pouring them more wine, "to trick them into being his fools in bed no doubt," she spat with disgust. Such rumors made the public murmur and stir. What was left of Plegia started to infiltrate Ylisse in small acts of persuasion. Spies told people in taverns all kinds of stories about the royals over a drink, and assassins gossiped with the women, turning their hopes slowly into doubts, and doubts into rage. By the end of the month, the royal council feared a rebellion would occur. 

    "Inigo, please take it easy..." Olivia soothed, coming to his side. She had never seen him act so outwardly, and as the stress piled up, she feared he would break.

    "Your mother is right," Chrom said, spiritless, from the other side of the room, "rashness will solve nothing."

    Inigo's head snapped to the direction of his father, sitting slumped in a chair, cold eyes gazing at something beyond him. "You are one to speak, father. Whose idea was it to dump all responsibility on me huh? You knew how I was feeling then! But all you did was give me nod after your blasted speech about Robin and her works of valour that would not be forgotten.  _I_ formed the search teams,  _I_ kept all the damn secrets, and I-"

    "Enough!" boomed Chrom, standing suddenly and causing his chair to topple over. Olivia gave a quiet yelp of surprise before quickly backing away from her son, allowing her husband access. "You will not speak to your father in such an abhorrent way! You're not the only one trying-"

    Inigo's eyes flared, and for a moment Chrom could see his own distant and abandoned ones in them. Like heavy stones in a raging tsunami.  "Trying?! You call sitting on your throne, staring into space and dismissing your subjects  _trying?_ And don't bother throwing your weight around as my "father", you were never there for me! I don't even know you! But you're the Exalt, and you haven't done a damn thing, you haven't even made a public appearance since you lied to your people, this country is falling apart and you're lecturing  _me_ about trying to find a godforsaken dead body?" Inigo's breath hitched, and he felt his heart pang a bit in pain. Since when did he start referring to Robin as if she were just an afterthought? As just a body? 

    Before Chrom could react, Inigo raced out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. Olivia's shoulders slumped, and she held her head in her hands, not daring to cry. 

    Lucina stood motionless by the door, fists clenched around a grimy scrap of cloth.

* * *

    Inigo somehow found himself at the center of the rose hedge maze in the extensive royal garden. He noted how worn down the place had become since the gardeners had been chased out, accused of being Grimleal. Weeds sprouted from the cracked stone on the circular floor, making weaving paths that ended abruptly amongst the stonework. He seated himself heavily on the cold marble bench at the center of the open space, running a calloused hand through his cobalt hair. He sighed deeply, he had refrained from doing so in the presence of others. He was the model of hope at the moment after all, just like before when Grima had run rampant in the future. He just could not lose a battle, he needed to win, for the sake of others. After taking in the solitude, his mind immediately started churning over another strategy to find Robin. He dove in with the same attitude he faced any battle, prideful and calming, but his heart was not so into it at the moment. A minute passed, then two, then five, and before he knew it, thirty minutes of roadblock after roadblock had passed. Inigo leaned over himself, frustrated beyond belief.

    "I just want to give her a proper burial, is that so wrong?" Inigo laughed shakily before shaking his head and letting out another monumental sigh, "that's not true is it? I just want it to be over with. I just want selfish closure with a happy ending...Oh Robin if you could see me now..." his shoulders trembled slightly, unused muscles tensing as he gripped his knees. Was it useless after all? Was it even human for him to bury her since...since he was the one who killed her?

    He stared hard at the rose bushes before him, all withered with the winter cold. Did his heart unknowingly fall with winter into sleep? Why couldn't he feel compassion for her lost body? If he loved her so much, if he dedicated his life to her, why did everything fail so quickly? He bit his cheek hard, drawing some blood which he swallowed distastefully. If he had been fearless, he would have found another way to end Grima's rule, he would have asked about the mark on her hand sooner. God, he would have treasured her so much more.

    "Tsk, I'm disappointed." 

    Inigo's shot up, whirling around to find the voice's owner. He reached for his sword on instinct, heart sinking when he remembered he had left it in his father's room. His shot nerves acted in overtime, seemingly creating hallucinations around him. He saw a woman, he saw, "Robin...?" he breathed, blinking hard to make sure he was seeing the figure before him.

    She smiled in response before taking a few steps towards him. "Hello, Inigo." 

    He looked around him, no one else was here. He sunk his nails into his arm, this definitely wasn't a dream. "Wha-"

    "Shhhh," she pressed her body up against him, silencing him with her index finger. "I haven't shown myself to anyone else yet," he stared in shock at the all-too familiar woman before him, hungrily enjoying the feeling of her warmth spreading across his skin. He almost lost himself to the euphoria, to have someone touch him so gently again, to speak softly into his ear. This was Robin, he felt his burdens suddenly lift, none of it mattered now that she was alive...

    Inigo pulled away quickly, _but exactly how was Robin alive?_ He suddenly remembered it all. How Grima had possessed her before he could even act, and how he did not hesitate to drive her own sword into her side while she screamed and clawed at him. His hand traveled up to the nape of his neck where she had left a lasting scratch during her struggle. He looked up again at Robin and saw how worn her cloak was, riddled with dried blood, remnants of the last battle no doubt, but his eyes widened at the sight of the fresh blood stains along her sleeves and the patches of crimson at her chest and neck. Inigo also noticed the emblazoned sigma of Grima faintly illuminated on her gloveless hand. She usually took such great cares into hiding the mark as it made rise to suspicion. 

    Robin's soft expression faded and her brows furrowed, in confusion or disgust Inigo could not tell. Inigo began stepping back, assessing his situation and trying to calculate the best escape route if the need came for him to run. His knee buckled a bit when the edge of the marble bench pressed against the back of it. Robin moved swiftly at that moment, pushing him onto the bench, straddling him into place with her hands pressing his shoulders down. This was the one position where Robin always won, he never had the heart or ability to push her off, but he was almost certain this wasn't the real Robin. He started struggling and Robin's face twisted.

    "Aren't I enough?" she asked softly with pain lacing her tone. Inigo froze, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. It was a genuine question, and it seemed to hold something wild and carnal at bay. He parted his lips to speak, only to have the space between them taken up by Robin's lips. She kissed him desperately, sloppily. He felt an urge to run, but his long forgotten lust awoke and overrode reason. He leaned into her, and she let go of his shoulders, busying herself instead with running her hands through his hair. Their teeth clinked and Inigo bit at her lip, directing his hands to her waist and letting them slowly traverse down. Robin gasped, shivering a bit at the unfamiliar touch. They had not shared any intimacy the entire month leading up to the final battle due to their duties calling them away from each other once they were alone. The gap of affection also tied into the fact that they planned to wed after the war, and Robin insisted that things didn't progress until they were sure they could settle. 

    Robin broke the kiss and stared down at the panting and flustered man underneath her. She stroked his cheek, the mark of Grima glowing glaringly. He noted how her eyes had turned cold and dark, almost animalistic, and his throat closed up in sudden vicious dread. 

* * *

    "I've returned to report, father," Lucina announced as she entered the room, grip still secure on the piece of tattered cloth. Chrom leaned to set the toppled chair upright again before nodding and motioning for her to continue. Lucina shifted her feet, swallowing before continuing carefully, "my search team has recovered the convoy," she quickly held up her hand to silence the voices of her hopeful and excited parents.

    She showed them the bloody cloth and grit her teeth, "this is all that was inside...along with this," she pulled out a ceremonial Grimleal dagger, not unlike the ones used for sacrifices, covered in dried blood from her cloak and placed it in the hands of her father along with the cloth. The room fell silent as the Exalt and his wife recognized the patterns from Robin's cloak on the cloth presented to them. More than that though, they stared, troubled, at the familiar handwriting on the cloth, the handwriting that had directed them to many a successful battle.

    "I, with Dragon one, and human two, live," Olivia read apprehensively.

    Chrom looked up at his daughter and she nodded grimly. "I'm afraid they've delivered a fate worse than death to Robin, and...I've also come to report that I have indeed seen her," she swallowed hard, "alive."

    The Exalt lowered his head and clenched the piece of cloth in his fist, "anything else to report?" he asked in a dangerously low reserved voice.

    Lucina pressed her lips together rigidly and nodded.

    "None of my men survived, father."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this made up for lack of story so far! I'm still trying to get back into my writing groove, so I tend to rush a bit when I write, not setting a mood or explaining things etc. Idk at least I think so, what do you guys think? Don't forget to leave a comment with your thoughts, it really helps!  
> Now I'm going to go play some more FE lol (fifth file r.i.p. me)


	4. Incarceration

        She enjoyed it, no, rather she craved it. The way her organs seemed to cave into themselves. She could feel everything moving and working, writhing in pain from neglect. To feel something inside her, it seemed to almost be a miracle, one she was addicted to. 

        Grima lounged back onto the cold slimy wall, smiling as she felt a wave of nausea from lack of food, drink, and rest. Finally, a body that could suffer and feel and enjoy. She kept her dizziness at bay by focusing on her contracting stomach, feeling every jolt of hunger and futile complaint to the brain to produce food for it. 'You'll eat yourself soon, won't you?' She thought, bemused. 'I look forward to how that will feel.' 

        Her eyes then wandered to her wounded feet, wondering how it would feel if one of them were cut off, and thus she continued up the rest of the body, pondering how each appendage or functioning part would feel if mistreated. 

        After amusing herself with this, the possessed Robin raised one scrawny, shackled hand and proceeded to rake through her matted hair, brushing it and trying to keep it smooth, another meaningless task for the fell dragon in a meaningless existence in the barren chambers of a Ylissean jail, nay, dungeon. But what fun! To be something rotting for once, and for a purpose!

        She felt a sudden sinister rumble of laughter build up in her chest, which she could only release with great effort to keep herself upright. A week of starving herself had taken its toll. 

       The metal gate rattled as it was opened, and Grima glared in the direction of the noise. 'Just when I had another idea to pass the time, a human shows up.'

        Her cold eyes met her wrath-bent opposites, dangerously dim. He carried another tray of food, this time with morsels that seemed to come straight off the king's table! Grima grinned, eyes glinting in delight as her body twitched for sustenance. 

        Inigo set down the tray and half-kicked half-pushed the food to the woman at the other end of the cell. She responded quickly, upturning the tray and spilling the food over onto the grimy floor for that rats to have at. Inigo scoffed, disgusted. 

        "What's wrong my little prince? Plan to keep me alive didn't go so well?" Grima managed to cackle through her parched throat, almost tipping to the side from the sudden exertion. "Royalty, pfah! Always get what they want through fanciful bribery, or is this torture?" Grima's mouth broke into a great smile. "I would take yesterday's gruel over your food, scum."

        "Scum?" Inigo raced forward, kneeling down and slamming his palm hard against the stone right beside Grima's face. She lipped her cracked lips, excitingly. 

        "Why are you doing this?" he seethed, refusing to look at her directly.

        Grima's smile widened. "Why, it's fun now isn't it? Seeing your wife rot before you because you were too stupid to realize a golden opportunity. It's not fair for you to have her back if I can't get what I want. If you had just taken me then and there this—"

        "Silence!" he yelled, slamming a fist into the stone this time. "Don't speak bullshit to me now, Grima. If you dare hurt Robin's body more than you already have, so help me Naga..."

        Grima laughed loudly at that, rocking into Inigo's arm and causing him to almost flinch. She met his eyes before she held his chin and tilted her head, cooing. "My poor little prince, this is  _your_ fault, why threaten me? Was it not you who condemned me here? After I even offered to bring Robin back, you just couldn't stand her not being whole could you? You cannot even make do with a generous sliver of her? Well now surely she'll be wholly dead! Spirit and body. My, my, you could have ruled the world and had your wife as well why would you refuse that?"

        Inigo pulled his face away from her, teeth grit. "Because _you_  would still exist." Dutifully, he grabbed the cask from behind his back with one hand, using the other to hold Robin's face in place. "It's time you give her back now." 

        Jerking off the cap, he took a generous mouthful of the liquid inside. His fingers dug into her cheeks as he roughly opened her mouth with his thumb. He locked his lips roughly against hers, passing the water through his mouth. Grima thrashed underneath him, attempting to claw at him only to find her body had grown too weak to fight. She bit his tongue as he attempted to channel the liquid farther down her throat, but it did not faze him. He grabbed the back of her head, burying his fingers into the familiar hue of his lover, and pulled, forcing the liquid to go straight down her throat. Grima sputtered, trying to gag out whatever he had given her, but finding the lack of breath bewildering, she finally swallowed, gasping for air afterwards. The woman growled, no strength left to protest the second then third round that ensued.

        When the cask was empty, Inigo pulled away, noticing that his knuckles at turned white from the sheer force he had been holding her down with. He would not allow himself to feel the consequences of what he had done to the body of his loved one, he had done what he needed to.

        In a way of slight apology however, and without thinking, Inigo tenderly kissed the reflexive tears that had sprung from Robin's eyes. They were salty, reminding him oh too well of the time he had kissed her at the springs...

        Inigo rose curtly, leaving a gasping and coughing Grima behind him as he picked up the empty cask and locked the cell. 

        Back in his room he called for Maribelle, the royal family practitioner, and handed back the cask. 

        "Are you sure this will work?" he asked, fatigued. 

        Maribelle nodded respectfully, "Do not doubt the medical prowess of your comrades, my lord. I consulted with Lissa and Libra, even that dark mage Tharja..they all guarantee it will work. Her body will start to heal itself in no time, and the supplements we liquefied into the mixture will act as the food she has refused. Your lady Robin will live, my lord." With that and a curtsy she left the room, most likely busy with the many responsibilities of a healer. 

        Inigo sighed, he looked at his haggard reflection in the window and frowned. He had been doing that more often nowadays. It was very unlike him. 

* * *

 

       Grima felt the pain in her body stop, and suddenly she felt numb. As she swallowed round by round of sickly sweet smelling liquid, lungs screaming for air, she observed how her vision grew blurry. Something wet was obstructing it. Grima blinked, and the tears fell onto her scratched cheeks.

       Inigo suddenly stopped and oh so slowly, and oh so sweetly, kissed the tears that had fallen. Grima felt a detached part of her leap up, like a bird in a cage, rattling the bars. For sure, it was the blasted tactician inside her, fighting to get out at the sight of a warm familiar touch. She suppressed it firmly, no one would take power from her again.

       Before she knew it, the prince had left just the echo of slamming metal behind him. Grima felt her back slipping off the wall, and she fell onto her side. The flickering torches around her seemed to dim suddenly, as did the rest of the cell, until all she saw was darkness. 

       Slipping into unconsciousness, Grima dismayed that she could no longer feel her writhing organs, but rather, the only thing her mind would focus on were the sweet misplaced kisses of the man someone inside her once loved. 

       They burned her skin where they touched, like rain to the sediments of a sand castle. And she felt her reign of control over Robin shift, cracking the castle walls bit by bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been busy trying to format and plan this fic out more, forgive me for the absence aaah D:  
> (tbh I've also been busy romancing inigo again in Fates hahah-)  
> The plan so far is for this one chapter in the current timeline, then I plan to delve more into the exact formation and past of Robin and Inigo's relationship, complications with Grima etc to give this story more basis. So expect more chapters taking place in the past!


	5. Greetings

       Inigo felt desperation clawing him down. The softness of the bed was lost on him, all he felt was the heavy sword resting in its sheath digging into his side. He had not slept in days, never undressing, never eating more than a few bites, and never detaching the still-stained sword by his side. It was the very blade that had cut into his love's side on that fateful day. Images of her crazed eyes and bloodcurdling screams as she tried to rip the weapon out of her flashed across his mind every time he tried to give into fatigue. The weight of the sword was a reminder of what he did in his moment of panic.

      Unworthy, that was what he was. Unworthy to mete out such a punishment, unworthy to even gaze at the woman he defiled with the rusting metal strapped to his side. Her body still sat in the dungeons far below him, possessed and ragged, the way it never should have been. He still remembered that day in the garden where the possessed Robin had appeared to him some weeks ago. He had such hope when he saw her face again, he had such love built up in him when she kissed him, but it ended like every thought of Robin he ever had for the past few months. Dread. She had turned into something he no longer recognized.

      Inigo still felt her wintry fingers clasping around his neck, crushing all the air out of his being, pressing him into that cold marble bench. He could not fight back, he was still mournful of his actions on the battlefield. His hope died in him once again in that moment. But before he fell victim to the woman he knew and the dragon within, Lucina had rescued him. He could barely watch as they chained her up in that rotten cell, her gaze unwavering from his figure the entire time, silence reigning among the clatter of the fetters. 

     "Damn it!" he squeezed his eyes shut, he was reminiscing about things that only hurt him. 

      Desperate, that was all he was. Every fiber of his being wanted so desperately to have a peaceful morning, with the illuminated edges of Robin's sincere face pressed against his chest in the rising sun's supple glow. He wished to show her the dance he had planned to gift to her at their wedding. He just wanted to be the husband he would have been by this point in time, happy and content with the love he found in a war. It was a life crueler than death for him now.

      "This is no good," he sighed heavily and turned from his side to his back, catching the fully illuminated moon's light on his soft features. The prince pulled out a small vial from his pouch, twirling it between his deft fingers. Maribelle had practically forced it onto him, telling him he needed to sleep. Flipping open the small container, he downed the contents wearily. He closed his eyes again, slowly this time, willing the good memories to come and finally take him to sleep. For the first time in a long while, his prayers were answered.

      Inigo drifted into a much-needed slumber, all the while recounting the best memory he could remember.

 

The first time he saw Robin's face, and the first time his hand took hers.

 

* * *

 

      "This is our new recruit," Chrom announced, ushering forward a man almost as tall as himself. He struck a smile, bowing to the tactician slightly with graceful movements. 

      Robin was hardly in the mood to act as a tour guide for anyone, as she had been benched all day for the battles that ensued. Chrom remarked that they needed someone to watch the camp that day, and since she had gotten injured in the previous battle, she could stay behind and think up of some new strategies where she didn't carry the whole army and get hurt. She barely looked up as he introduced her to the blue-haired man in front of her, instead she chose to shuffle through all her plans and produced a map of the camp and thrusted it up blindly to whoever was there.

      "I took my extra leisure time to make this, in case we got a new recruit," she responded coldly, waiting for whoever stood before her to take the map and get lost.

      "Ouch," the man laughed cheerily, clearly not offended in the least. "Father, did you do something to spite this beautiful creature?"

      Chrom stuttered, quickly flustered, "n-no, what in the world are you talking about? Robin," he paused, groping for straws. "I didn't do anything...did I?"

      The tactician couldn't help but take the chance to look up and enjoy his clueless face, letting out a stifled giggle. "It's all right now Chrom, just let me out to take a walk sometime, please." 

      The man next to Chrom laughed at this and nudged him a bit. "You have no sway with the ladies, do you, father?"

      Robin finally caught sight of the stranger's face, surprised at his good looks and striking resemblance to his...Father??

      "Did you say 'father'?" she questioned.

      The stranger paused his teasing and met Robin's inquisitive gaze, almost stopping dead in a stupor when he fully beheld her face. 

      "Y-yes..." he answered, suddenly shy. His confident facade had crumbled the moment he realized his heartbeat had sped up when they locked gazes. Before he could lose his cool further, Inigo grabbed the map and turned on his heel, waving to the tactician and laughing nervously, "well, I'll be putting this to good use then...Goodbye!"

      With that, he was gone from her sight. His heart still hammered and Inigo cursed himself. His tolerance of extended contact with women was still low. He'd never seen such clear eyes in his life, he was afraid if he looked into them any longer he would have been seen through. He couldn't have that, nope. He fully planned on enjoying his stay in the camp, starting with...

      "Ah yes," he placed his finger on the map on where it read 'Robin's Quarters', "Robin is a girl's name right? Might as well check out the ladies here to see what I'm up against. What a lucky lass, this...'Robin' is. Let's see what treasures father has kept in here hm?" He traversed down rows of tents till he spotted the one the map indicated. Slipping on his trademark smile, he opened the tent flaps and let himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I'm so awful at updating. Honestly I didn't know where I was going with this. I wanted a segway into the building of Robin and Inigo's relationship but I got blocked so I just left it at this hahah. Sorry for the long wait!  
> Remember, comments are the fuel of this lazy shipper's heart, please leave your thoughts!  
> And as always, thanks for reading and for all the kudos!!


	6. Future of this fic?

Okay, first off I'm really very sorry for not updating this frequently :(  
I honestly had so much planned for this fic but ever since Fates came out I sort of lost passion for it, especially since Inigo existed there in a newer source anyway.I was contemplating possibly finishing this fic and then connecting it to a newer fic I have planned where Inigo travels to Nohr and "meets" Kamui/Robin again (I won't go into detail but I swear it makes sense). But as time passed I realized I had to do so much for this fic to get it to the point of being able to end it and start a new one. My school barely gives me free time as it is and crappy dorm wifi is bad enough. I may just leave this fic as unfinished or delete it and start my new one for Laslow/Inigo with elements for this story mixed in with the original vision I had for both of the fics.   
Would you guys be completely opposed to that or? I just want an opinion since I know some of you have bookmarked this. I don't know if people even think this fic can go anywhere or is relevant anymore so I'd like to spare myself some extra work if that is the case.  
Please leave a comment, I really need to sort this out! And just to make it clear, I'm still writing fics, but I think I may just have to reorganize my intentions with my Inigo one, I'm not leaving you all hanging, the new fic would have this original story in it, just continued in a way that would make more sense.  
Thanks for understanding, and again, sorry!


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